For As Long As It Takes
by fission07
Summary: "I loved - I still love - that man with every fibre of my soul… It just always seemed like…" she took a shaky breath. "Like we would have more time." Disclaimer: All characters/familiar plot lines/HP Universe belongs to JK Rowling.


"Name: Fred Weasley. Date of death: May 2, 1998. Age: 20."

_Death__…_

The word rang hollow in Hermione's ears as she stood, paralysed, and watched the stout mediwizard scratch one last word on his parchment pad before moving along to the next body in the row.

She felt Harry's hand rest on her shoulder as she screwed her eyes shut - she couldn't bear to look any of the Weasleys in the eyes, for she knew that there would be nothing there but a reflection of the sadness, the pure _agony_ that she felt in hers.

"I… I can't believe he's gone," she heard Ron choke behind her, and before she could register what was happening, George had spun around and pinned Ron to the wall, fists tearing into his collar.

"DON'T!" George shouted, tears threatening to spill from his eyes as his face twisted into a mask of anguish. "Don't you dare- You- You can't-…"

"George," Hermione whispered, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

With a shudder, his grip on Ron relaxed, and giving Hermione a heartbreaking look, he turned and walked fiercely out of the Great Hall. Taking a deep breath, Hermione gave Ron a consoling touch on the shoulder before she moved to face Harry and the rest of the Weasley family.

"If you don't mind, I'm going to go check on him," she said quietly.

"Why should you go?" Percy started angrily. "You hardly knew him-"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Harry snapped, glaring at the redhead before he turned back to give Hermione as encouraging a smile as he could manage. "Go on, 'Mione."

Her eyes glittered graciously as she whispered a hushed "thank you" before she spun on her heel and ran out of the Hall, searching for signs of George.

—

It took 20 minutes before Hermione managed to track George down - when she found him, he was seated on a wide flat rock by the edge of the Black Lake, staring out over the horizon. As she approached him, she noticed that his eyes and nose were red from freshly fallen tears. If he heard her, he did not show it, and so she sat down next to him, facing out over the water. After a few moments of silence, she opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted-

"I knew."

She paused… "You knew what?"

"I knew about you and Fred," he said, turning to look at her with a small, sad smile on his lips.

"I saw one of the letters you sent him," he continued. "When I asked him about it later on, his ears turned red - he never was good at hiding things from me…" George said quietly, looking down at his hands. "I'm shocked he'd managed to keep it a secret for that long… Although, I suppose we left soon after you two had gotten together, and then you were off with Harry and Ron… didn't give you much chance to tell anyone, eh…"

Hermione let out a small chuckle, "We were going on to almost 2 years," she whispered, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her jumper. "As for secret keeping, it would have been a shock if you hadn't found ou-"

"He wanted to marry you."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Before she knew it, she felt her eyes begin to water. "H-how-"

"He told me. He… He wanted to ask you, but never plucked up the courage. He tried to find you before the battle, to propose… 'Don't want to go into battle not knowing', he said… But…"

Hermione's heartbeat began to quicken and she felt her breaths getting shallower and shallower.

_He wanted me__… __Forever?_

The tears in her eyes began to spillover as she looked at George's face, '_so similar, and yet so different__…'_

She felt his arms wrap around her and that was when she broke - like a dam finally bursting under pressure, she sobbed into his shoulder, her body shook and tensed, and she muttered the same gut-wrenching words over and over again-

"_Yes__… __Yes__… __I would have said yes.__"_

—

It was almost sunset when Hermione managed to get a hold of herself. George had held her while she cried, and, due to the dampness of her hair, she knew he had let tears fall as well. They sat for a while, watching the sun settle on the horizon. The sky was painted red, orange, purple, blue…

"Fred loved the twilight sky," Hermione said, breaking the silence. "We used to sneak out of the castle after dinner to watch it together, you know, before you two left… It was really the only time we were truly alone - no distance, no distractions, no drama…"

George was silent for a moment.

"Why didn't you two tell anyone? I mean, why didn't you tell Mum and Dad? Nobody knew, and they will all be wondering why you're…" He took a breath. "Just… why?"

Hermione rested her elbows on her knees and her face became pensive - almost calm.

"The first time we kissed was at the Quidditch World Cup - remember, we were all there together? Ireland had just won, and everyone was so excited. On our way back to the tents, I had fallen behind - in everyone's eagerness to celebrate, I got knocked over and twisted my ankle. I suppose it was simply to rush off to the party - or maybe they didn't see that I was there - either way, when Fred noticed that I wasn't with the group he came back to walk with me. He even held my hand, supporting my weight, as we walked through the marshes. It was such a small thing, but so kind, so gentlemanly, so… unlike anything a boy had ever done for me that I couldn't help but feel a little bashful," Hermione smiled at the memory, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear before she continued.

"By the time we had gotten back to the campsite, the celebration was in full swing - drinking, dancing, singing, the whole lot. It was quite a sight, but I remember that the only thing on my mind was that I didn't want to let go of his hand," she chuckled. "Naturally, being the awkward, verging-on-15-year-old girl that I was, I had no idea what I was doing. When he sat me down to tend to my foot… Well, I wouldn't say I _lunged_ exactly but I kissed him for all I was worth, I can tell you that much."

George let out a small laugh, and turned to smile at Hermione. "I'm sure he was quite taken aback."

"You've no idea," Hermione grinned. "We basically decided to pretend that it never happened… I can't say I wasn't hurt when he asked Angelina to the Yule Ball, but I _know_ that he was cross when I turned up with Krum."

"Twins since birth, and only now do I find out why Fred was sneaking bits of dung beetle into Krum's food all term."

Hermione giggled at that. "Well, we had finally reached our breaking point that summer - it was only after term started that we fully admitted our feelings for one another and started seeing each other in secret. Harry found out, naturally, although I suppose what made us keep it hidden for so long was the fact that we wanted to treasure the moments we had to ourselves… That, and it never seemed like the right time - whether it was the D.A., you leaving Hogwarts, Bill and Fleur's wedding, the Horcruxes, there was always something getting in the way," Hermione sighed, staring out towards the last shimmers of light. "I loved - I _still_ love - that man with every fibre of my soul… It just always seemed like…" she took a shaky breath. "Like we would have more time."

—

George looked sadly at the girl sitting next to him. The sky was now a pale dark blue, and the first stars were beginning to peek out of the night sky. He didn't think anyone would care about the loss of his brother quite as much as he, but looking at the young witch beside him, he knew he was not alone.

A thought kindled in the back of his mind, and, smoothing his rich, flaming-red hair out of his face, he turned to Hermione.

"There is a story our grandmother told to us back when our grandfather died. Would you like to hear it?"

Hermione drew her cardigan closer around her body and nodded.

George looked up at the emerging stars overhead and let the cool evening air brush against his face before he sighed and began.

"Gran told us that magical beings are different from non-magical ones in more than simply the ways in which we live our lives. For Muggles, there is Heaven, Hell, Purgatory… For Us, there is the real world, the veiled world, and Beyond. When our spirits die, we pass through a veiled dimension, from our world into the veiled world. It is a mirror image of the world of the living, but on the other side, there are only those who have passed on. The barrier between the worlds is fluid, constant, changing - it is complete and divided at the same time. When our spirits pass on, we cannot come back. Some people choose to go Beyond, but for those who don't - for those who wait - they are able to see in to the world of the living, and they can watch over the lives of their loved ones from afar… They can travel, in the veil, where they travelled when alive, and sometimes, if the barriers have a rift and they are in our thoughts, they can touch the ones they love, if but for a moment… " George said, his voice low and steady.

He turned to Hermione, whose eyes were shining with fresh tears. "He will never truly be gone, Hermione, not as long as we have him in our memories and in our hearts. Remember that."

"Thank you," Hermione whispered as she moved to lean her head on George's shoulder. There they sat until the crescent moon rose - Hermione's heart aching at the thought of his words.

—

By the time they realised how dark it was, it was nearly midnight. Crickets were chirping in the grass and the moonlight was shining on the lake.

"We had better get going," George murmured, as he moved to fasten his cloak. "Mum's probably gotten everyone home… I can apparate us both to the Burrow."

Hermione, who had zipped up the fastening of her coat nodded in agreement, before she paused.

"Would you mind giving me just a moment here?" she asked quietly, turning to stare longingly into the distance. "I just want to say goodbye."

Nodding, George slowly began to walk towards the apparition point outside the entrance to the castle, leaving Hermione alone with the night.

She took a deep breath and allowed her sadness to wash over her once more.

"Fred," she whispered into the darkness, as if hoping he might hear her. "I-," she began, choking back tears. "I miss you… so much… You were taken too soon, and I can barely stand it… I am so, so _angry_ with the world, and yet, I am so lucky, because this world is what allowed me to meet you," she smiled wetly into the darkness.

"I am the luckiest woman alive to have loved and been loved by a man as wonderful as you, and I thank the Gods _every._ _single._ _day._ that I met you… You have given me a lifetime of memories to treasure, and I only wish that I could have created a lifetime more of them with you," her hands began to tremble.

"Some people go their entire lives without finding the right person, but for me, you were the one - you will always be the one," she fought back a sob.

"I love you, Fred Weasley…" Hermione whispered into the night. "I always have, and I always will," she finished, before closing her eyes to release a flow of tears…

—

Little did she know that, beyond the veil, pressed up against the barrier between worlds, a grief-stricken Fred Weasley stood before her, slamming his fist on the invisible wall, unable to touch her, unable to tell her…

'_I love you, Hermione__… __And I will wait here for you__… __For as long as it takes.__' _


End file.
